Canadian Literature’s Issue 221 (Summer 2014) is now available. This special issue focuses on science and Canadian literature and features a wide range of articles and book reviews as well as a selection of new Canadian poetry.

Por Favor Muy Bonita Saraswattie Señorita, Por Favor

Accepting an award I would have refused (?) naively tripping memory on spotlight
charged with Gordon's flash of suicide or murders: the historian who would live by the walkie talkie died by it—a lone anti-hero-worshipping-anybody poem, "Reply to Walter Rodney is dead" reproduced

The sole female recalling the rapes at Wismar—the '62 governor suspending the
constitution. British puttees patrolling streets of father's frames: click click click. Water Street in flames, the sky's white-black smoke a scent of race for prizes I would have avoided (?).

Jagan CIA-ed and chased from office clutching Gandhi's ahimsa. Troops returning
to Empire, serpenteyed Harris returning to London after Carnival, Shinebourne to the Last English Plantation and Freddie stuttering around Mamma Dot's uncertain Mother Sally stumbling from the podium, someone mimicking:

My bonnie lies over the ocean My bonnie lies over the sea Bring back, bring back О bring back my bonnie To me to me ...

In front the police commissioner the colonels and the President on stage—
all rise his Excellency will arrive after all gone back unborn unconcerned uncaring. But I wouldpuja the earth Saraswattie goddess of learning, Kali goddess redtongued on every-crack-of-limb-on-ground

pink petals from el Kama Sutra de Español de Puerto Rico. Taste for grilled something on the Lincoln Road Mall inside inside inside entering
behind reproduction's famous oil over the bar Rembrandt or Rubens(?) whomever nude back buttocks in July

or was it June's dangerous hips recall bonita bonita bonita; not the two-table-waiter,
si we own the restaurant's space-song like Paris'. But how could you mother—be controlled, faithful repressed to poison on your lips? The bottle emptying the lives

we will fulfil our lips for touching lips tongues for thinging
tongues on hips' waterways English a decidedly poor language for love I will come to the Fine Arts Museum we will savour the flames of fingers

NOW señorita here señorita señorita the sitar player on your wrist my palm
aching for the instrument—one summer of music another painting, several danceteaching will you me a salsa tonight tonight tonight. Today only 24 hours days years all inconsequential unsequenced.

The burger tested. Nothing the waitstaff saying more assuring than your nodding— yes we would eat any morsel from pudendum's pink
ixora cluster if you will part it agreeably, if you will lend your Lorna-Book, notes in souls' margins:

These are two very different books: Belonging and Banishment is an edited collection with diverse contributors; Private Grief, Public Mourning is a monograph with two academic authors. The former’s theme is life—the vitality of the Muslim population in Canada—while the latter’s is death: it is a study of roadside shrines. What the books share is an interest in telling particular stories of Canadian lives, communities, and histories.
Belong […more…]